PHHH # 806.4
Date:  December 31, 2000
Weather: Snowbrite
Set by: Geezer
Location: Princeton Borough and Township north and west from 86
Prospect, finishing either at the Geezerheim or Minor Tom's car.
Time: 1 hour for Pack #1 with Geezer, 1:30 for Pack #2 with 2 rookies
Hashers: Hey YO! Paully, Juicy, Uranus Williams, Speedbumps, Pyroman,
Ouipee, Minor minor minor minor Tom the Army Guy, Minor minor minor
minor Tom the Army Guy's brother John, Minor minor minor minor Tom the
Army Guy's sister-in-law Kerry
Not seen at the on-in: Mrs. Geezer
Left at the on-in: Uranus's sportsbra

The Trouble with Rojo

    "Wake up, swine!"
    Minor Tom felt a hard slap across his face, opened his eyes and
struggled to orient himself.  He was bound to a chair, not an unusual
situation for anyone consorting with the Grand Dominatrix, but this was
not Rojo scowling at him, and this was not the spacious recroom in the
townhouse they now shared.  Where was he?  And who was this badly shaven
man with the pliers?  And what was that snuffling mound on the
wheelchair?
    The last thing he could remember was looking for his sister-in-law
on Harrison Street.  It was early in the hash, it was cold, she was as
small as any female Princeton hasher, and his hulking brother would take
offence at losing his wife or her extremities to frostbite the day
before Minor Tom's wedding.  He'd jogged up to a cigar truck parked on
Harrison to ask about Kerry and then all went black.
    "So, Minor major Tom the Army Air Force Guy, we meet again."
    "Look, I've never met you before.  Where am I?  Where's Kerry?"
    "This is the House of Shih.  Forget about escaping, and remember
me.  So soon we forget?  The Bay of Peegs?  The Measles of October?  The
Mariel boatleeft?  And what is this?  You do not miss your senorita?
Perhaps the Cuban Assassin needs to refresh your memory."
    With that, the Assassin grabbed Minor Tom's ear with the pliers and
twisted his head until he could see. . . Rojo!
    "What have you done with her?  If you've harmed a hair on her head,
mister, I swear I'll . . ."
    "Do what?  She is mine, she has always been mine, and since Senor
Wacko and that Pheelly idiot failed to eliminate you, we will settle
things like gentemen. I have an exchange to offer, or, rather, I and my
lamented comrade, A. G. Zaire, do."
    "Zaire?  But he's dead, Geezer told us!"
    "Ah, Geezer, he leaves too much to his students.  The bomb was
strong enough to kill most men, but Zaire is not most men.  He lives,
but no longer to offer Rojo the love she deserves.  Perhaps you'd like
to see?"
    The Assassin lifted the coverlet on the wheelchair, and Minor Tom
choked.
    "Si, capitan, you can see he needs much care, and I have arranged
for a nursemaid.  Please meet. . . Our Wanda."
    Out of the shadows stepped a woman to give the dead a pulse.  Minor
Tom goggled even as he thought that most nurses dressed more warmly in
December.
    "As stimulating as Our Wanda is, even she finds Zaire a challenge.
She needs the help of a strong man, capitan: is she not a fair trade for
the Grand Dominatrix?  Alas, I see by your expression you are not
convinced.  Let Our Wanda help change your mind, how you say, up close
and personal?"
    At that moment the boards covering a window splintered and a swarthy
figure in camo fatigues swung through, spraying the space between Minor
Tom and his foes with gunfire.  A stunbomb blew the Assassin, his
assistant, and the wheelchair to opposite corners of the basement.
    "Rambo! I never thought I'd see the day where--"
    Rambo sliced through the bonds holding Minor Tom and ran over to cut
down Rojo.  "Where what?  The czar from afar, the swain of pain, the
mouth of the south wouldn't rescue the woman he loves?"
    "What?  Does everyone love her?  But she loves me.  How could I be
so lucky?"
    The Nubian knight placed Rojo's limp body in Minor Tom's arms.  She
mewed softly.  Rambo rubbed an eye.
    "Between you and me, white boy, I have no idea.  But you're hers,
and she's yours, so go home while I settle some old scores.  Assassin,
get your pathetic posterior out here!  It's payback time, homey!"
    Music swelled up, as Rambo opened fire on the darkened corner, tears
streaming down his jungle-painted cheeks.  "Go on, run, before I change
my mind!"
    Minor Tom kicked out the door, his head swimming.  As the House of
Shih disintegrated behind them, he put Rojo in the passenger seat of the
cigar truck.  She blinked and asked, "Minor, my love, what's happening?
I feel like I've the had the strangest dream."
    "Not nearly as weird as the one I just had, pet.  Come on, maybe we
can make it back for the on-in."
    As long as we're together tomorrow, my sweet."

Next week: Pyroman sets the finest hash of the millenium!